


People don't make good Sex Toys

by ScifiTentacles



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Needs a Hug, Aged-Up Character(s), Cunnilingus, Dom Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Dom/sub, F/M, Identity Reveal, Masturbation, No proofreading we die like mne, Self-Esteem Issues, Sub Adrien Agreste, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 05:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21441055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScifiTentacles/pseuds/ScifiTentacles
Summary: It's not that she didn't love him; she did. It's not that he wasn't beautiful, he was. It's just that try as she might, Marinette couldn't cum thinking of one Adrien Agreste- - - - -Marinette starts using Chat Noir to fulfil her sexual fantasies. But when she brings the fantasy into real life she ends up hurting the kitty she doesn't realise actually loves her.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 6
Kudos: 154





	People don't make good Sex Toys

**Author's Note:**

> This hastily written little bug wouldn't leave me alone, I'll try and get the next chapter up soon. Also, I'm imagining Adrien and Marinette as being 17-18 in this story.

It's not that she didn't love him; she did. It's not that he wasn't beautiful, he was. It's just that try as she might, Marinette couldn't cum thinking of one Adrien Agreste. 

At first when her hormones had started going haywire and she'd started 'exploring' when the sun went down she'd reach for a picture of him. She could imagine his kisses soft, sweet, barely a press, his hands curled warm around hers, there fingers linking, held between their chests. There would be candles, delicate music, he would draw back, flash her that soft, kind smile, the one that made his eyes warm and Marinette's speech malfunction and then-- well, then that was it. She couldn't imagine shoving him to his knees, or having his hands grip her thighs or dirtying that innocence: that perfection. 

Once, when she'd been newly sixteen and feeling bold she'd forced her feet to the newsstand on the way home one afternoon and red faced selected a magazine where Adrien, burgeoning from boy to man, was splashed across the cover, his shirt undone to his naval and hair a soft golden halo framing kohl lined eyes and too long lashes. But even with muscles on display the pastel colours and gentle smile spoke more of bright youthful innocence than sex and heat and passion. 

So it was that after the thoughts of romance, of hand holding and kissing and declarations of love under a starry sky that it became the norm for Marinette's fantasies would drift to a different blonde haired, green eyed boy, one she didn't have to love in order to imagine. Yes, Chat Noir would do nicely, thank you very much. 

\----

"Ah-!" Firm muscles rippling under black leather as he moves. 

"God, I-" so tall, broad shoulders, slim waist, arm hard around her, claws digging into her hip. 

Marinette tossed her head back onto the pillow, "Shiiiit," she groaned out, voice a low rumble. His smirk, his wink, all mischief and sex appeal. Her trembling thighs stretched further apart, imagining something larger and so much hotter than her own fingers. Obscene squelches filled the room. Marinette squeezed her eyes closed, imagining the accompanying slap of his balls as he fucked into her and the warmth of his gasps puffed out against her shoulder. He'd be able to hold her up as they fucked she was sure: so strong, so quick to follow her orders. Her back arched away from the mattress, fingers moving faster, muscles in her arms clenching and then- and then-

And then she heard the first distant scream. 

"God Damnit!" She whipped her hand away from herself, leg kicking out in frustration, she sat up, hair a mess in front of her eyes, sticking to her damp lips and forehead. She brushed it irritably away. "Tikki?"

The little red Kwami rushed obediently up towards her from where she'd been dozing amongst Marinette's scrap fabric. She phased through the bed and settling onto the coverlet with big concerned eyes. 

"An Akuma?" She asked, placing a tiny spotted paw on her chosen's sweat dampened shin. Marinette nodded, lips twisting into a scowl and brows drawing down. 

"Why does Hawkmoth always pick the worst moments. She could feel her heartbeat still thrumming 'down there' and took a steadying breath as Tikki petted her shin sympathetically. Ready as she guessed she's ever be she plastered on a confident smile, squared her shoulders and brushed her hair back from her earrings. 

"Tikki, spots on!"


End file.
